As the Sky Fades
by DoodleNoodle-no-baka
Summary: Told from the viewpoint of Orihime's older brother. Sometimes, when the pain is at the llimit, we go beyond. But mostly, to protect.


A/N: It started as a sort of curiosity, but I decided to start a fic (wtf? lazy-ass, start finishing the other ones!) in which Sora tells his viewpoint until his...death. Please, don't be disappointed if there are errors on my part. I just wanna see how far I can go with this.

Disclaimer: I'm only stating this once: I am not Kubo Tite!

* * *

'_Useless._

_Cold, hard like stone…but the truth._

_My mother believed every word. Her heart was the truth._

_My father, gifted with a strength that made me believe he was a rock._

_But no. He was lightning. Clashing against that truth until it cracked. Until I cracked. That's what useless was. An unmoving, useless, rock that can be so easily destroyed. In essence, I was that truth…_

_And then, she came….frail, weak, defenseless. A small doll, underweight, crying, with tufts of orange-brown hair on her head. All it took for me was one look into her eyes. Eyes which were unknown to pain, to misery, just innocence._

_That rock became my armor. I wore it on my heart. No matter how many blows, no matter how much pain, no matter how many cracks, I could endure it. _

_No longer useless, filled with only one motive in my entire being: to protect._

_Because she needed me, because she was defenseless, because she didn't deserve this, because then I would become…_

_useful.'_

* * *

It was dark and raining out, thunder and lightning dominated the sky. I couldn't sleep. My little sister was crying. She hadn't eaten, and we were out of canned milk. I went to the bathroom and washed my face. I looked in the mirror. Concentrating on my face while ignoring my parents arguing in their bedroom, I slightly grinned. Tall, broad shoulders, and a little thin from being underweight. Maybe I wasn't handsome, maybe I was. I just hated it that I resembled my father.

The crying got louder. So did my parents, and so did the thunder. I knew I had to intervene soon.

I left the bathroom and observed my home. It was a run-down apartment, the living room only had one sofa and an old T.V, the kitchen smelled and the sink was filled with dirty dishes. There were empty beer cans and bottles, as well as whiskey (my father) containers. In the corner, there was an overflowing trash can, filled with deteriorating diapers.

And then, I heard it. That same sound I hear every night. The blow of skin on skin and a painful cry resounding throughout our entire apartment. Only, something else was different. I heard glass shattering as well, followed by a painful groan.

I ran into my parent's bedroom, my long legs striding and straining from the speed and picked up my three-year-old sister from her too small crib, shushing her so as to calm her down.

My mother turned her eyes on me and gave me a glare, a thin trail of blood forming at the corner of her bruised mouth. But the glare stayed, the glare reserved for my father, only this time, it was stronger, more forceful, and determined.

My father was in the corner, passed out, finally, both from the excess alcohol he had been drinking, and from the empty shattered beer bottle, bits of glass sparkling in his hair as it caught the dim light's reflection, a bit of blood flowing down like a small river. Wordlessly, my mother wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist, dried up blood smearing across.

A long silence passed, with my mother glaring at my father's unconscious figure and her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white at her side. With a firmness, she relaxed and outstretched her fingers. Orihime was snuggled at the crook of my neck and had fallen asleep.

Then with a hurrying speed, she went into the closet, put on her coat, and grabbed the suitcase she had reserved a long time ago from underneath the unmade bed.

She walked past me, barely brushing my arm barely acknowledging her own children. I heard her footsteps stop at the door as it opened. Then, it closed with a great slam.

"_Do whatever you want, I can't stand this anymore!"_

No goodbyes and tears, just the echo of bitterness resounding in my mind. There was no point if I or my sister came along. We would just be spare and useless luggage. It's not like I'm going to miss her, anyway.

I heard movement from where my father was. He groaned from the straining of his muscles and rubbed his head, removing bits of glass and blood, all the while muttering. "Bitch…"

My father then turned his heads towards me eyes knowing, but not angry. He wasn't glaring, just becoming slightly emotionless.

"So, she finally…?"

"Yes…sir."

His voice was somber and gruff. It was strange to hear him like this.

Stranger that he even started a conversation with me.

"…I'm going out. Getting me a drink…"

"But, father, you can't drive in your condition, you need to go to a hospital…"

"Shut the fuck up! I'm going and doing whatever the hell I want, so stop being like your fuckin' mother all the time! Always nagging and blaming me for things that are just as much as her fault!"

Well, he was becoming his normal self again. Or so I thought. His red and puffy eyes were brimming with tears.

It was a marvel. One drop fell, then the other. It was like seeing an immortal fall to his knees. This proud and arrogant wretch could indeed, cry.

"She…she left. Why couldn't I just…just tell her…every day it's the same…why…" Slowly, as if time was standing still, he fell to his knees. The thunder ceased, and the lightning faded, but it was still raining.

My mouth twitched upwards in a sad smile. "Father, do you know, what today is?" He didn't respond, he was just struggling to muffle his pained cries.

"I'm eighteen today."

He slowly lifted his head up. Didn't look at me, like he was dead on the surface.

"I'm going to leave soon. And I'm taking Orihime with me."

It was apparent that he was not going to answer to me, no matter what I was going to say.

"I'm…never coming back. I'm going to go far away from here. I'll never forget what you've done to me, but maybe, someday, I can forgive you."

I left his bedroom and went towards my room, the last time that I will ever see him, his image of a defenseless human being forever etched in my mind.

Was I brave? No. I plucked up my courage in his moment of weakness. But was I strong?

I slightly shifted Orihime into a more comfortable position on my bed and tucked her in, curling around her, as if trying to protect her.

Perhaps time will tell.

* * *

The next couple of days passed by in a blur. I haven't seen my father at all. I came home from school, finally graduated. I was surprised to see the place clean and devoid of any furniture. A large suitcase filled with clothes, probably, was by the front door. On top of it were keys to the car and some legal papers with a note stating that Orihime was in daycare. One paper caught my eye.

'_Sora,_

_By the time you have read this, I will be gone. I made some contacts, and I had the things moved to a small apartment in Karakura. It's not far. There's sufficient money in the bank, for both you and Orihime. My only regret, was that I was not able to teach you to be a man. But, I've seen you do that on your own. Truly, you've grown. Take good care of Orihime and become stronger. Stronger than me, so when the time comes, you can protect her. So you won't fail like I did.'_

The print was slightly blurred from dried-up tears. Thanks…

Dad.

* * *

Well...I think I did well, for a first-time angsty piece.


End file.
